Pseudo
by Zeriku
Summary: Because his Master is an illusionist who makes the line between illusions and reality disappear. For Jackidy


For Jackidy. She kind of dedicated a fic to me, which made a Zeriku extremely happy. ;w; (yes, I'm easily pleased like that xD)

Prompt from a guy friend who had no idea what's going on. Thanks for the prompt, dude. ;D

I don't own KHR.

* * *

Illusions are what they are, Fran silently chided at himself as he tried to make his eyes and face look as disinterested as he could. He failed epically, much to his dismay and the delight of his companion.

"Still a kid, I see."

Wrinkles between his eyes and at the bridge of his nose began to form as a glare directed at the person in front of him hardened his emerald eyes. His glare earned him the twinkling of the other's eyes from amusement and a low chuckle.

"Oya oya. No need to get grumpy now, ne?" A chubby pig with flapping wings suddenly appeared out of nowhere and began flying around the room. Emerald eyes followed it with unmasked fascination on them.

"It's cute, isn't it?"

Snapped out of his reverie, Fran hissed quietly as he tore his gaze away from the chubby flying pig and fixed them once more on the person in front of him. _They're all illusions, _all _of them._

Another chuckle, the rustling of fabric, and he was sitting up, mysterious gaze focused on his former student. Fran felt that feeling he always gets whenever the Boss or the Tenth goes ballistic on them. _Can I teleport somewhere far far away now?_

"I want to see the stars."

Not a command, yet not entirely a request. It was kind of a mix of both, but Fran wanted to think that it was _purely_ a _command_, because it's easier that way and because his Master never really requested anything from him before. He takes what he wants, with or without permission from the other party, using everything at his disposal.

Illusions, façades…

His Master gives him an undecipherable look, his face devoid of his perpetual smug leer and deadly angles.

…blackmails, lies, _lies._

Fran doesn't know what to believe in anymore, brushing a tiny fairy poking his cheek away. But the room turns dark, the ceiling darker. And then, one by one, as though they rehearsed some kind of timing schedule, little dots of white and light blue and light gold began to appear on the dark navy blue pseudo-sky that was just the plain white ceiling a few seconds ago. An aurora could be seen at the far left; a bit tiny but still noticeable if you squint hard enough. That was where Fran's eyes were looking at, just past his Master's left shoulder.

"Ah… so beautiful," his Master whispered, very very softly as though the stars and the night would immediately vanish if he spoke too loudly.

Fran looked at him then, and was slightly taken aback when mismatched eyes met his, crinkled on the sides as a small smile played on the man's lips.

"Beautiful," he whispered again, voice low and soft, and- _oh my god_- sounding oh-so _genuine_ and Fran could only stare as thoughts ran some mph inside his head.

_Lies._

His eyes narrowed and he cast them down, glaring at the little yellow dog that's baring its teeth on him. A larger dog with bluish fur suddenly picked it up by its collar and walked away, not minding the little one's yelps and barks of indignation.

"Fran," his Master said, and Fran became alarmed. Alarmed because the voice sounded nearer than before and that his Master is already standing and making his way closer, _closer_ to the frog-hat wearer.

The stars shone a reddish tint.

His body wouldn't move. His Master stopped in front of him, a mere foot away. Time stood still.

A shooting star froze in its descent.

"Fran," his Master called out softly, voice loud and clear and _close_, closer than what Fran's comfortable to. _Another illusion_…?

"Fran." A hand cupped his cheek, making his green eyes widen because it felt _so real_- the calloused pads of his Master's fingers and the warmth of his hand against his cheek and the stitches on his Master's shirt.

So _real_.

"Look at me." And he did, right at those mismatched red and blue eyes that always made anyone-_everyone_ uncomfortable.

He sees nothing on them _or was he not looking enough_?

A hand suddenly clasps his, and he started, panic seeping and showing. A hushed "Shhh…" managed to lessen his panic which was swiftly being replaced by confusion as his eyes followed his hand being guided towards the other man's chest. His hand was then pressed on his Master's chest, and a pink stained his cheeks at how intimate this might look like.

"Can you feel it?"

Confusion, that's what Fran felt. It must've shown on his face, for his Master chuckled.

"My heartbeat."

And he did. Despite the cloth and the muscles in between, Fran felt it, the steady, lulling beating.

_Not an illusion? But..._

"No," he bitterly lied and tried to move away. He stilled when his Master called out his name again.

"I'm real." His Master said, his hand tilting Fran's head so that the younger one's looking right into his eyes. "I'm real, aren't I?"

Fran stared back. "I can never be too sure. Your illusions hardly differ from the reality."

His Master hummed. "But I already said that it's not an illusion."

"Your words are just like your illusions."

"Oya? Really now?"

"Un.." he replied in agreement, itching to put some space between them, to get away from this pseudo-reality he's currently in.

But all thoughts of escaping suddenly went somewhere non-existent when he was suddenly pulled and encased inside an embrace he _doesn't_ want. He does _not _want it.

"W-what are you doing?"

"My body heat is real, isn't it?"

_Yes_, and so were the vibrations from his Master's chest that he was currently pressed up to. So were the hands deftly loosening and peeling that obnoxious frog-hat sitting on his head away. He heard a _thud_ somewhere at the side, but couldn't really be bothered to check if that was his frog-hat or not. All of Fran's attention was currently on the body he was pressed up against and in his inner debate on whether this was real or not because, _hell_, he should know if this was an illusion or not because he's a freaking illusionist too!

"You think way too much."

Fran scrunched his nose in annoyance. His Master's voice was too cheerful for the young illusionist's taste.

"Fran," said person inhaled, "what's our relationship?" and choked.

Coughing, he pushed the other away, trying to get the coughing to stop. He wheezed a little, and cleared his throat when the coughing fit stopped. He glared.

"Allies," Fran simply replied, referring to the Vongola and Varia.

"Hmm… not quite…"

"…Master and… apprentice…?"

Intense red and blue focused on him. Something hazy is materializing on their right.

"Is it really?"

And then Fran felt panic wash through him once more as the hazy _something _on their right began to become clearer and clearer and-

"Stop it, Mukuro-sama."

"Oya?" The master illusionist flicked a strand of hair off of his face, smiling at a floating pen passing by. "But is it not what your true answer is?"

A pregnant silence. The older one raised an eyebrow, waiting. His student heaved out a sigh.

"Yes, but it's not what's _real_."

Mukuro smiled a childish one. "Then let's make it real."

A hateful glare that was immediately redirected somewhere other than him was not the reply he was expecting though.

"Fran," said person didn't acknowledge the call, "you do not believe me?"

Fran closed his eyes. "Your words are just like your illusions," he repeated.

A quiet laughter filled the room, and light footsteps neared. Fran didn't open his eyes; even when spidery fingers cradled his chin and turned his head upwards; even when hot breath ghosted over his lips.

_It's easier to think of this as a dream with my eyes closed…_

Lips latched on his, softly moving against his. A sharp intake of breath was his only response, eyes still closed. A hand cradled the back of his head and pulled him closer, earning a muffled moan of surprise and hands coming up to rest on the other's chest. To push away or to pull closer, Fran doesn't know. All he knows is that he's being kissed and it's becoming deeper and deeper, a tongue licking on his lips which immediately opened because, _damn_, this feels so good and _real _and his knees are going all jelly-like because it's _so good_ like that.

They broke apart because the need for oxygen is that strong, but not even a second later when they did, they were kissing again. And again.

Fran lost count how many times they did, as they gradually became deeper and needier and and- fuck, he doesn't know how to describe it anymore. By the time they pulled apart for good, Fran's lips were so red and ravished and his eyes were open, staring at the shirt-clad chest in front of him. He was gasping, and fingers were running through his hair.

"…illusion…?" he meekly asked.

Mukuro hummed. "What do you think?"

Fran groaned in frustration. "I don't… know. You… erase that boundary between illusions and reality."

"Did I this time though?"

"I… _don't_ know!" he hissed, angry at how helpless he sounded.

"Shame," his Master replied in a mocking manner.

"Tha-"

"Reality."

The Varia illusionist shut his mouth for a few moments before replying, "I say illusion."

Mukuro chuckled. "Denial won't get you anywhere."

* * *

Well, that was weird. And didn't make complete sense. OMG D:

The point I was getting across: Fran doesn't want to believe in anything Mukuro says because he's '_an illusionist who makes the line between illusions and reality disappear'. _:')

OOCness galore~

I-I hope Jackidy liked it, even though it completely, _absolutely_ didn't make any sense. (this be my hands typing on their own ohohoho~)

R & R.


End file.
